Caught in the Act
by brynerose
Summary: Seth Plummer has had some unusual experiences, for a high schooler. But things are far from normal at Chesapeake Heights Public School, and befriending the new student in the theatre program is going to put him right in the middle...
1. Arrivals

Caught in the Act

**Caught in the Act**

- - - - - - - - - - - - Arrivals - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Sir, a tip's just come in about the Einstein. Anonymous caller says she saw a teen who matched the BOLO at a pay phone. He was telling someone about moving the search out to the eastern suburbs. 'I'm getting close' was all she could remember exactly."

"Who picked this up?"

"I did, sir. I was covering for Wallis while he ran another tip to a team leader. Everything's filled out."

"Good work, Bryant. If Einstein follows his current pattern, I think I know which school he'll use for cover. I'm sending you in after him. The list of project members who are still alive has been exhausted. There's no one to stand in his way anymore."

"But they were all in protective government housing, weren't they?"

"Plummer wasn't. Hated adding to the time already spent away from his kids. If he was in charge, we've got innocents who could end up in the line of fire. I've asked specially that Shane Wolf come out of retirement to be your handler; he's familiar with the Plummer situation. It'll still be up to you to pull double-duty, though. We have to find it first."

Bryant nodded. "Yessir. I'll be fitted out and standing by at 1800 hours."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

At first, Seth Plummer didn't know what woke him up. Noise always seemed more prominent when the windows were left open at night, but the weather was still muggy and the air conditioner was broken. He'd have to deal with it for now.

After a minute or so, he heard it again—rustling, somewhere under his window. _What now? It's been almost two years since the whole Ghost thing!_ When the rustling continued to creep closer, Seth gave up and went to investigate, skateboard at the ready as a precaution. He never expected to find what he did.

"_Zoe?_"

His older sister was scaling the lattice up to her balcony window. Seth grumpily ran a hand through his hair, once more long and sandy brown. "Zoe, it's one in the morning. Mom's gonna kill you."

"Not if certain little spies keep their mouths shut. The movie just ran late, is all."

"Who is it this time?"

Zoe finally made it to the top, and paused to catch her breath. "Not that it's any of your business…the new kid, Trenton. We went down to Showcase and our movie ran late. But he asked if I was free next weekend, too."

"Whatever." Seth rolled his eyes. "I'm going back to bed." _Senior year must be affecting her brain._

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Monday became Seth's mission to identify this new kid. For two weeks now, rumor after rumor had surrounded him, but he'd never actually laid eyes on the supposed genius. At least, he didn't _think_ he had. This left Seth so deep in thought, he didn't notice the familiar shadows block his path.

"Where d'ya think yer goin', Creeper?" Murney's wrestling thugs had once again caught him outside. Seth braced himself—Shane's reputation hadn't lasted long once it got around that he wasn't staying at the Plummers' anymore.

"C'mon, guys, I quit wrestling a long time ago."

"An' yer still scrawny as ever," the captain retorted. "Maybe we should remind you that you need to bulk up."

"But I—" The first blow caught Seth in the side of the face, knocking him off balance and into the wall of goons that had appeared. He tried to put his own fists up, but received a punch to the nose, then stomach before he could really react. Only three hits, and already he was on the ground.

"No bodyguard to cover your butt now, huh Creeper." Rough guffaws erupted around him.

"Six-to-one; impressive odds," said smooth, new voice. Seth felt a chill down his spine at the sound of it. "Sometimes odds can be deceiving, though."

The captain dealt one good kick, making Seth curl up in a ball of pain, before facing the newcomer. "With the Creeper? You gotta be kidding."

Seth caught a glimpse of Zoe at the other boy's shoulder through watering eyes. He was dark-haired and pale, taller than Seth, and of roughly the same build. What made him think he could take on six wrestlers?

Apparently the captain thought the same thing. He lunged at the new boy…who promptly had the leading fist twisted behind the huge bully's back. Everyone in the immediate vicinity fell silent. This kid was more than smart. The captain's face fought a wince as the boy tightened his grip.

"This is just a warning. One doesn't need strength to land another in a hospital. Now, get lost."

Fear crossed the captain's face before he was released to lead his gang stumbling towards the school.

"Seth!" Zoe cried.

Seth continued to keep his face pressed against the cool grass. He could feel warm blood pulsing from his nose, but was in too much pain to care. Only when Zoe's hands began to pull at his shoulders did he acknowledge the outside world again.

"You're bleeding! Come on, let's get you to the nurse's—"

"I'm fine," Seth muttered. As much as he appreciated her concern, he was in no mood to be fussed over.

"No, you're not. You wouldn't even get up without help."

"I just need to stop the bleeding and splash some water on my face. Stop worrying so much." Seth stood, and, after fighting down a minor wave of nausea, started towards the school doors.

"I'll make sure he gets cleaned up, Zoe," the pale boy stepped in. "You go on to class."

Zoe held her look of concern for a moment, then nodded. "Thanks, Trenton." She headed for the doors, looking over her shoulder once or twice at her brother.

"I don't need help," Seth protested as Trenton followed him into the nearest bathroom. "It's not like I'm in second grade or something."

"Somehow I have trouble believing you," Trenton replied coolly. His smooth, ominous tone was back. "Especially if those thugs return. What would you do then?"

"It's been the same routine for three years now. Like I said, I can handle it." Seth wiped the blood from his face with a paper towel, followed by another pinched around his nose. "Anyway, what's it with you and my sister? Kinda rushed, isn't it?"

"I don't think it concerns you, Seth. This can either be easy, or really difficult," said Trenton. "I have nothing but honest feelings for Zoe. Only you can decide if that makes us friends or enemies. Now the sooner you get that nosebleed stopped, the sooner we can explain to your teacher why you're late."

Seth managed not to roll his eyes as he removed the paper towel to check. There was something about this guy he just didn't like. Despite his helpful exterior, Trenton possessed an air that was cold, calculating.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Seth, could I speak with you for a moment?" Principal Wolfe caught him before he could find a corner to reside in for lunch. Seth reluctantly turned to face her—it was too weird after the wedding to know her as "Claire" whenever Shane visited, and still remember that she was the principal.

"Get over here; you're not in trouble. I need you to show a new student around. She's got a lot of the same interests, so I figured you'd be a good pick."

'_She?'_ Seth thought nervously. He followed Claire toward the outdoor lunch tables. Sitting alone was a girl who looked like she could have stolen most of her outfit from Seth's own wardrobe. Aside from the fitted black CIA shirt (like one would get in Washington, D.C.), she had on boys' cargo pants, a loose, hooded jacket, and black Vans sneakers. Her hair was short, dark, and roughly layered. Only her soft features and a delicate silver ring she played with truly identified her as a girl. She didn't look up until Claire was right in front of her.

"Reese? This is Seth Plummer. He's going to show you around, and maybe even introduce you to the theatre program afterwards. I mean, if it's okay with him." Claire glanced over her shoulder.

"Guess so," Seth mumbled. Why was he being dragged into this, of all people?

"Great!" Claire said with a relieved smile. "Well, I guess I'll leave you to it. See you later." And she hurried off to intervene in a brewing argument several tables away. Reese watched the principal for a moment, then glanced, half-expectant, half-skeptical, at Seth.

"Um…hi," said Seth, waving half-heartedly. "Mind if I sit down?"

Reese shrugged indifferently. "Go ahead. So, you related to her?"

"No, why?"

"Well, you seemed both comfortable with having her around and really embarrassed. Most kids don't get that closely connected with their principals."

Seth wasn't sure he like this girl anymore than he like Trenton. What was going on at Chesapeake Heights? "So? That doesn't make us related. She married a family friend about a year ago," he shot back as he pulled out his lunch. "What about you? Where you from?"

"All over. Born in New York, lived in London for awhile…I spent most of my life in L.A., though, before moving to D.C. and then here."

"Wow." Seth arched his eyebrows.

"No big. You get used to it, especially when filming on location."

Wait—what—you were in _movies_?"

Reese cracked up for the first time. "Only a handful. Tiny parts, usually on smaller projects. I wouldn't call myself a star. Anyway, I prefer a live stage and a smaller venue."

"But you've _been _there!"

She shrugged again. "It would be a cool experience to be a lead in a movie, don't get me wrong. The stuff I did just took a week, maybe two; then they'd pay me, and I'd go home. I did get to sit on Tim Allen's lap and say, like, five words, once. But imagine being chased around constantly by the paparazzi. I'd go crazy!"

"Yeah, I guess I see your point. Still, most people don't get anywhere close, even to what you do." Seth let the conversation dissolve into silence as they both turned to their lunches. The rest of the period passed quietly, aside from one brief moment of terror, when Seth had to duck out of sight from the wrestling team.

"Are you okay?" Reese asked. She peered, first over the table top, then underneath it to look Seth in the face. Embarrassed, he straightened up again.

"No—I mean yeah. It's just…those guys have a knack for drawing blood every time we run into each other."

"I see. And the principal won't do anything about it?"

"She doesn't know. Murney taught 'em well to avoid suspicion. I've just learned to deal with it." A distant bell rang.

"Well, I guess it's off to class once more. Where does play practice meet, again?"

"I'll show you. My locker's just outside the upstairs science lab. You can meet me there after seventh period." Seth stuffed the remains of his lunch back into his bag. "See you then?"

"Locker outside the science lab. Got it."

Seth's thoughts were on play practice for the rest of the day. They would be reading for the next show, a musical called _Newsies_. Shauna Ramens, the school's director, had shown the movie last week, which starred a young Christian Bale. Seth thought it wasn't all that bad. Competition would be heavy for the girls' parts, though.

Finally, the last bell rang. After taking a detour to avoid the gym-bound wrestlers, Seth discovered that Reese had already beaten him to his locker.

"Photographic memory," she said as he approached. "I had chem after lunch, and you were just shutting the door. I took note of it. So, what show are you guys working on?"

Seth grabbed his stuff as quickly as possible. "Just starting a new one—_Newsies_. We're reading for parts today, though the girls' ones are going to be hot competition. Our club's not big enough yet to really merit real auditions."

"Hmm, sounds cool," mused Reese. "Ortega would have been cool to work with, especially for the dance numbers."

"The…taco company?"

"_Kenny_ Ortega. I only got to see _Newsies_ when I was little, when it came out in '92, but he's a great director and choreographer. Christian Bale wouldn't be bad to meet, either." She smiled slyly.

"How do you remember all of this?" Seth asked as he led the way through the halls.

"I've always had a mind for movie facts, for some reason. They just stick in my head. Is this it?"

They had reached the double doors of the auditorium.

Most of the club was already there, along with Shauna, her assistant, and the college intern who was working in the department for the semester.

"Now, if everyone would take a script, please." The director assigned the parts she wanted to hear from people first, starting with the guys. Seth tried out Kid Blink, David Jacobs, and Racetrack Higgins before Shauna had him read for Jack Kelly, the lead role.

"Hey lissen up!" Seth read in the best New York accent he could muster. "Pulitzer an' Hearst an' all dem udda rich fellas, I mean dey own dis city. How'sa bunch 'a street rats like us gonna make a diff'rence. The choice has gotta be yours. Are we jus' gonna take what dey give us, or are we gonna strike?" Silence rang out in the auditorium for a few seconds. Then,

"Strike!" Reese yelled the next line from the seats. Shauna was taking notes at lightspeed. She also kept Seth as Jack while she played around with the other roles, and then started adding in girls.

Reese wasn't just an acting enthusiast. She was amazing. The girls had waited over an hour, during which she apparently ran over her lines in her head. She only had to look at the script once or twice when she read Medda onstage. And her characters were believable! In fact, Seth felt it easier to get into his own character because he could believe hers.

"You should see Sana Fe; ev'ryting's bigger dere…da trees, da sky…an' da sun." Seth perched on the back of a chair, like he'd meant to do it all along.

Reese smiled to herself. "It's the same sun as here." There was the slightest hint of a laugh in her voice—no one could have guessed they barely knew each other.

"Yeah, it jus' looks bigga."

These characters were in love, Seth knew from the movie, and Reese pulled that out of the air with an almost complete stranger. In auditions!

"Sarah?" Seth began with honesty that took him by surprise. He self-consciously ran a hand through his hair. "I'm jus' not usta havin' wedder I stay or wedder I go matta to anybody. An' I'm not sayin' it should matta to you, but…but does it? Matta?"

When they made eye contact, the connection was so strong Seth could almost read an answer in her face that wasn't in their lines.

"That's good," said Shauna. "You may sit down. Now, could I please see…" She had kids read lines for another half an hour or so, but one could tell her mind was not completely in the present. Finally, she dismissed them with the promise to post the cast list in a week.

"How did you _do_ that?" Seth exclaimed as they left the auditorium. "I got shivers down my spine!"

"You're not playing a character in a play; you _are_ the character. You have to move and feel and react as the character would. Actually, you've picked up quite a bit already. Have you ever taken classes before?"

Seth felt his face heat up. "Nah. This is just for fun. It's what I like doing more than anything, though."

"Well, you take it very seriously, for a hobby, and that's not very common at the high school level," Reese pointed out. "Ah, there's my ride. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"See ya." _So maybe she's not so bad after all. But there's something different, something I can't quite put my finger on,_ Seth thought as his own mom pulled up.


	2. Secrets

- - - - - - - - - - - - Secrets - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - - - - - - - - - - Secrets - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next few weeks became very busy for Seth. He still hadn't decided whether he liked Trenton's presence or not, though being associated with him, however indirectly, prevented much confrontation with the wrestling team from occurring. The only thing that bothered him was how much Trenton was now appearing at the Plummer house. He almost might as well move in, with all the time he spent with Zoe. Once, Seth even found the older boy poking around _his_ room. What could he want there?

Then there was the play. Seth had nabbed the role of Jack, his first decisive lead. Reese would be both Sarah and one of the chorus newsies. With her background, she was also asked to work closely with the choreographer on how much of the dance numbers could be used from the movie.

_Choreography._ That bit alone seemed to take up all of the cast's time. The cast of the movie had trained for weeks before filming. This school production would be _over_ in two months. On top of the routines, Seth had lines and songs to memorize, including an entire number to himself. And they still expected him to go to _school_?

"Okay, take it one more time. Five, six, seven, eight," Reese rapped out. She counted beats at half-speed from her spot in "Seize the Day" while the entire group reviewed a section of the dance. Some of the more coordinated ones mouthed the words for reference. It was all Seth could do not to trip over his own feet. Though his abilities had steadily improved since his first theatre experience, some of the moves taken from the movie were insane. How in the world were they going to pull this off? And dancing wasn't his only worry.

"Let's work the finale a little before we wrap up for the day," Shauna called from the seats. "Start from Jack's last entrance."

Seth groaned inwardly as everyone jostled to their places. This was his least-favorite scene in the history of shows he'd participated in. It was the only section of dialogue that hadn't been done with the entire cast present, and which he dreaded performing in front of anyone—he had to kiss Reese.

Why was this so difficult? Everything they'd worked on had lent itself to fully becoming the character, but he mentally stopped short of this moment every time. To his incredible luck, however, the focus this time was more on the crowd around them and their places within it than the blocked action. _I just can't; what if she doesn't think it's just acting? It wouldn't be right._

Even so, he couldn't have survived without Reese's help. She coached him on memorization and acting techniques, drawing on her greater experience without an attitude of superiority. Despite his anxiety over the impending show, Seth had to admit he was growing comfortable around Reese. It was as easy to be himself as it was to get into character. Private rehearsals brought her to the Plummers' practically as much as Trenton came with Zoe. But he never expected anything of the two newcomers meeting face-to-face.

On the surface, it would seem that they'd never seen each other before. But there was some kind of unspoken tension between them, a stiffness that neither had displayed around anyone else. Seth didn't know why it made him so uneasy.

"Is there something you've got against Trenton?" he asked Reese one day as they headed up to his bedroom. Normally they got the living room to themselves, but today it was taken for Shane's surprise birthday party. "I mean, I know he's brainy and seems to know what you're thinking, but you get used to 'im."

Reese thought hard, and then shrugged. "I dunno. Sometimes just get a bad feeling offa someone. So, this is your room?"

"Yeah, it's a bit messy, 'cause I wasn't planning on coming up here." Seth grimaced, attempting half-heartedly to pick up a few stray clothes.

"I'm not exactly a neat freak, either. Hey, cool clock."

"Thanks, my dad gave it to me before…before his last trip. Said it was special."

Reese's gaze snapped around to meet Seth's. "He did? How so?" Seth saw the tiniest flicker of a deeper attentiveness that had just switched on. Why was she so suddenly interested?

He shrugged it off. "Didn't say."

"Oh." She went back to studying the clock, running her fingertips lightly over it. They paused, ever so slightly, on the right side. Then she dropped the hand to her pocket. "Could I, uh, hit the head real quick before we start? It's kind of urgent." Her face went pink with embarrassment.

"Oh, um, sure, up ahead. It's across the hall." Seth felt just as awkward. When he heard the bathroom door shut, he crossed the room and checked out the clock for himself. It was metallic blue and silver, equipped buzz alarm, radio, and MP3 plug-in. On the right side was the emergency battery socket, which had lost its cover not too long ago. He had never bothered to put a battery in, anyway. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Seth shrugged, and retrieved his script from his backpack. No further comments were made about the clock when Reese returned, so he put it out of his mind.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"…Happy Birthday to you!"

Shane rolled his eyes bashfully at the applause before hugging each of the Plummers in turn. Seth made sure to promptly introduce Reese, who had been given permission to stay. Trenton had bowed out with apologies about other engagements.

"Reese, eh?" Shane said as he shook the girl's hand. "I hear you're making quite the splash in the musical scene, from reliable sources." He smiled endearingly over his shoulder at Claire.

"Yessir," Reese answered briskly.

"Hey, no need for the 'yessirs' here; I'm supposed to be retired. Please, call me Shane." Yet the ex-SEAL's voice seemed a bit tighter.

Reese nodded, though she said nothing else. Her manner wasn't rude or untrusting, but it wouldn't have looked out of the place in a military school. Then she turned and grinned at Seth, appearing to be her old self again. Maybe she was acting for Shane's benefit.

The party was a small, family affair. Lulu played a song she'd learned on the piano. Peter showed off the artwork he'd done in his preschool class, and Zoe was badgered into reading a poem that had won second place in the school competition. Seth turned down the uproarious calls for a preview performance, saying they'd all have to wait and see the whole thing.

Soon, however, the younger boys were nodding off, and Claire had an early staff meeting the next day.

"Well, thank you guys again," said Shane. "I have to say I didn't see it coming. Seth, I'll see you in two weeks, and—"

A loud _thud_ came from upstairs. Seth looked around. Everyone in the house was still crowded around the door. Already Shane was running full-tilt for the stairs, with, of all people, Reese at his heels.

"Reese, wait!" Seth shouted. He tore after them. What did she think she was doing? And who wanted to break into the house this time?

The intruder was in Seth's bedroom, dressed in black all the way up to the ski mask, hastily picking up a thick, black case. Reese's backpack lay spilled out where it had been tripped over. Seeing he was discovered and outnumbered, the would-be thief abandoned the case for a safe and hasty escape.

"Shane?" called Seth's mom.

The ex-SEAL watched the retreating figure cross several lawns and out of view. "All clear." Everyone promptly stampeded up to join them.

"What was that all about, Shane?"

"What did they want this time?"

"Please don't leave us!"

"Do'ya think they'll come back?"

Shane raised a hand to stem the flow of sound. "Let's take a minute to calm down, here. Someone close the window. Now, I'm not sure what that was all about, but—"

"We should tell them, Shane."

Seth spun around. Reese was standing near the nightstand, holding the discarded case. "_Reese_? Whaddo you mean?"

"That's not necessary here," Shane ordered. But he was glaring at Reese, not Seth.

"Why not? They've seen it for themselves now anyway," the slight girl argued.

"You're a creative person. I'm sure you could've found plenty of inventive ways to keep your cover—before you made it so obvious, anyway."

"_What cover_?" Seth demanded.

Reese sighed, shot Shane a Look that plainly said, "Don't you say a word," and unzipped her black jacket. She was wearing her CIA shirt again.

"You know how reverse psychology works? You put the truth in plain sight when it should be your closest guarded secret. Stupid, right? That's what your opponent thinks. So he's searching deep for whatever hidden clue is actually right in front of his face—I work for the CIA.

"For the past six months, we've been trying to get ahead of a mastermind bent on snatching the world's most sophisticated computer. Several government scientists built a prototype some years ago, which was kept in possession of the project's leader. We've come to believe that leader was your dad. That means it's still somewhere in this house, and judging by what we just witnessed, I think I might know where to look."

She turned the case over, slipping it onto Seth's clock. It fit perfectly. "This guy, whoever he is, knew what he was after."

"You gotta be kidding," spluttered Seth. His dad hid a lot of stuff around the family, but _giving_ him a _super computer_? Seth wouldn't trust himself with something like that.

Reese picked up the clock and pulled layers of some opaque tape from the right side. Then she turned it so the others could see. Several clearly-marked buttons were now visible inside the battery slot. Seth's mouth fell open.

"This is the most advanced system on the face of the planet," Reese explained. "No firewall or amount of computer protection in existence can stop it. Companies, governments, militaries…the most secure places possible would be sitting ducks if this landed in the wrong hands." Silence greeted this for several moments.

"So whaddo we do now?" Seth finally asked. "I mean, it's obviously not safe here in my bedroom anymore."

"No, it's not. As soon as I get home, I'll contact my supervisor about having the CIA pick it up. In the meantime, it'll be in the possession of my handler."

"Your handler?"

"Yeah—Shane, actually," Reese gestured to the ex-SEAL. "They dragged him out of retirement because he's worked with you guys before. I'll take all the intelligence I can get. Plus, if I get into trouble, I've got someone close by on the outside to cover my butt." She smiled at Shane, who returned it, somewhat sarcastically. Seth had the impression that he had not taken the job quietly.

"Well, it's not helping anything to stand here," Shane said in an obvious effort to cut the moment short. "Let's pack it up—I think your mom has a spare clock in the closet, to replace this one, Seth—and we'll see where to go from there."

So Shane led the way downstairs with the now-full case. Reese took a little longer, packing up her school bag. Now that the initial shock about the disguised computer was over, Seth felt a wave of indignity hit him.

"So all of this was just for a mission. Bit elaborate, isn't it, everything with school?" he asked Reese, who wouldn't look at him. "The stuff you're involved with, the friends you made…I guess the only reason you buddied up with me was to get your hands on that computer. How do you find time to keep this up _and_ chase a nutcase?"

"Because that's where he is," Reese said tonelessly, even businesslike. She continued to keep her eyes down. "This guy isn't an adult; he's a teenage genius. We got the tip a couple months ago that he was heading out here. Schools have been his cover of choice."

"Then I _was_ just 'a part of the mission.' All of the time we spent together was just so you could find this thing before he does."

"I'm an agent. It's my job. These things come with a price, Seth."

"And meanwhile you're letting me think what I want about it all? You really are an amazing actress. I thought for once that someone _wanted_ to be my friend, that I wasn't totally invisible to the normal world. Do you know what it's like to think that about someone, and then find out it's all a _lie_?"

Reese jerked up to face him at last. Her eyes were blazing, but not with anger. "_Yes_, I do. Maybe more than _you_ know. I became an agent because both of my parents were agents. They're dead now. Making friends isn't an option when they can double-cross you just as easily. I learned that the hard way, Seth. It haunts me to this day, playing over and over in my head. I never meant to hurt you. But like I said, I don't get a choice in having friends. Being an agent sometimes means being alone."

Seth realized that her cover had turned out to serve more than one purpose. It had allowed her to track this kid…and also allowed her a rare chance to be a kid herself, if only for a few weeks. Except now she was torn between the two.

"I wanna help, in whatever way I can," he told her.

"I'm not sure that's possible. You don't know what this guy does to get what he wants."

"Behind the scenes, then, moral support, I dunno! I'll do anything you or they ask me. Just don't shut me out. You pretended to have a friendship, and got a real one. What if I could _understand_ more than you think? You're not alone this time."

Reese didn't answer for several moments. "I'll have to see," she finally conceded. "First I have to discuss the next step with my supervisor. Though this _won't_ mean skipping play practice." Her smile was the first genuine gesture since the argument began. "I gotta go. School tomorrow, and my ride's leaving soon. See you then?"

"Of course," Seth replied. His own grin surfaced as inspiration crossed his mind. "Carryin' the banner, like always."

"Carrying the banner," Reese echoed, also still smiling, and left the room.

Seth flopped onto his bed, feeling suddenly so drained. He couldn't help but wonder who had double-crossed Reese, and what exactly they did to her to make her feel like she had to be so callous.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Reese was unprepared for what waited in her bedroom, yet at the same time knew it was inevitable. In any case, she closed the door and made it halfway across the dark room before the voice spoke.

"If I had any sense, I would shoot you right now," it hissed from a corner behind her.

"Well apparently you haven't had any all night, trying to sneak into a well-lit house full of people," Reese shot back, though not loudly enough to be heard outside of the room. "You didn't say that you'd already figured out where it was. Nearly blew everything! Luckily, I got away with just telling them the CIA part."

"Good. Nothing truly valuable was lost, then."

"Your antics could cost me my job!" A thought struck Reese. "And you, your little advantage. I guess it'd be too bad for—" Further comments were silenced as she felt something round and cool on the back of her neck.

"You forget, Agent Bryant, that your life belongs to me. I spared it three years ago, and I can just as easily take it back. _I own you_."

Reese sniffed derisively. "Too bad by now I know you wouldn't do it. I'm too valuable a source of information—_inside_ information. Would you risk not being able to replace that?" She was being bold, but still couldn't entirely block the fear from her voice.

"My, my, we have gotten presumptuous. You see, once I have that super computer, inside information will be a thing of the past," the voice sneered coldly. "And so might you, if you keep this attitude up. Of course, there are much worse fates than that of your parents."

Furious tears surfaced almost before Reese could hold them back. "You know, you never did carry out your part of the bargain. Even these days, when you still say—"

"And yet you still follow. It's your own mess you've gotten into. Your fault, your problem. Not mine. What's the CIA's next step, now that you've secured the computer?"

"I haven't been able to notify them yet…imagine that. Most likely it'll take a couple weeks or so to line up transportation to Washington, between paperwork, priorities among the brass, and the fact that my age doesn't exactly carry much leverage."

"Pity."

"But there are ways to slip past those defenses, of course. They rely more on technology than personnel these days…"

"Thank you. Once again, you have earned your value…for now. Make sure you assist in that transaction. I will, of course, hear of all final details, right, Agent Bryant?"

"I could just do the snatch for you," Reese stammered. "Why risk exposing yourself at the most critical moment?" She stiffened as the cool gun barrel pressed harder into the back of her neck.

"You never were as convincing an actress when under such stress. Let me rephrase this—if you and I aren't both present for this hand-off, I may be led to believe that the computer is still concealed elsewhere. Say, with your friends, the Plummers. And I might _slip up_ in my determination to succeed this time. No, you will follow my orders exactly as I give them to you. All of them."

Reese hung her head in defeat. The voice chuckled. "There's a good agent. Now, I'm afraid this little chat will have to close for the night. I will expect to hear from you very soon. Don't think I won't be watching in the future. Good night." And without another sound, he crept out through the window.

The adrenaline rush of the encounter finally left Reese exhausted. She sank to the thick carpet where she was, hugging her knees, letting her tears flow freely. Seth could never understand this, not even if she told him everything.


	3. On With the Show

- - - - - - - - - - - - On with the Show - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - - - - - - - - - - On with the Show - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rehearsals intensified as opening night drew closer. Seth had never seen a show come together like this. There was something about playing a ragtag bunch of orphans that had brought the cast into one big family like no other show had. Only one thing seemed out of place.

Although Reese still became her characters onstage, everywhere else she was definitely not herself. She was quieter, sometimes scanning the crowded hallways as if expecting someone to appear at any moment. Small things around her escaped her notice, a feat unheard of next to what Seth now realized was probably her CIA training. She was _afraid_ of something.

"Feeling okay?" Seth asked one day. He'd stopped by her locker as usual, but this time she'd jumped a mile.

"Uh, I guess not," she said sheepishly. "Probably just nerves, with the show in three days. Hey listen, Claire and I were going to chill in the park after rehearsal and dinner, so I can't make it to hang out tonight. But it should help the stress." She made direct eye contact, just for a moment. "See you on stage."

Seth never would have caught it if she hadn't been coaching him for the past several weeks. The slightest flicker had crossed her eyes, one that said, _Be at the park and don't say anything_.

Once again, rehearsal felt completely normal. They were drilled relentlessly with dance and voice warm-ups, followed by a run through. Reese had caught on by now that Seth was uncomfortable with the final scene, and, without even mentioning it to him, worked in a way to fake it under Shauna's radar. But once again, as soon as they were dismissed, Reese disappeared somewhere with her cell phone. She still hadn't emerged when Seth's ride pulled up.

It wasn't hard to get away to the park. Zoe was occupied by Trenton as usual, Lulu had a Fireflies outing, and their mom was busy with the younger boys. As long as Seth got his homework done, no one would think anything of his absence for the moment. He got there just in time to see Claire and Reese finishing a lap around the pond.

"Oh I think I've got one more in me, just for the sake of the old days," Claire was saying, jogging lightly in place.

Reese, however, had spotted Seth already. "You go on ahead. My knee's starting to bug me." She picked up her water bottle from the bench and sat down. Sweat streaked the sides of her face. "It's amazing how much better you feel with a little exercise. What's up?"

"Well, I'm wondering if you're really feeling better," Seth answered. The memory of her nonverbal cue made him subconsciously keep his voice a little lower. Her reaction told him he'd guessed right.

"I guess I'm a little wary of wrapping everything up, not just the show." She pitched her voice lower as well. "My boss wants to move the Friday after show weekend…and he says there's already going to be plenty of help. Sorry."

Seth hung his head in disappointment. Then he noticed that despite her light and relaxed appearance, Reese's knees were bouncing nervously. "What's got you so jumpy? The cover ups, being out here…?"

"It's make-or-break time; if we screw up now, we could lose more than we're trying to gain," she said cryptically. "And this guy's too smart to still be oblivious after we've chased him for so long. I'm…I think he might be on to me." Her gaze was hollow, and focused on the path at their feet.

"C'mere." Seth slid an arm around Reese's shoulders. "Wait—this is okay, right?"

She shrugged, a smile curling her mouth only for a moment.

"It's going to turn out okay, I promise…actually, I can't, that was dumb…but from what I've seen, they've trained you too well to not be able to kick this guy's butt. You'll get 'im."

"Thanks, Seth." Both allowed the moment to linger, until Claire's appearance around the corner made them jump apart.

"Well, um, anything else you wanted to do or talk about?" Seth covered wildly. He dropped his skateboard to the ground and placed one foot on it. "Cause if not, I should probably go."

Reese's eyes seemed to search for a reason to ask him not to, but no result presented itself. "I guess you should; it's getting dark anyway. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. See ya."

One thing still nagged at him, though. It didn't seem right the way that she spoke about the pick up. Seth felt like the CIA was exposing its back somehow in retreat, a mistake that, if this nutcase was as quick as Reese thought, was not likely to go unnoticed.

_I'll find a way to see for myself_, he decided. _It sounds crazy and stupid, sayin' it, but I have a sickening feeling that's when he's going to make his move. Whoever he is…_

Seth found sleep hard to come by, and uneasy when it did. He kept seeing images of Reese covered in blood, overshadowed by a faceless, hulking figure holding the computer. Then the man would level the gun at Seth, and he would wake up shaking and drenched in cold sweat.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"…Save a place, I'll be theah."

Seth slipped his cowboy hat back on his head and walked up to the lamppost on stage left. All eyes were on him. "So you ain't got any family—ain't 'chu glad you ain't dat way? Ain'chu glad you got a dream called…Sana Fe…" He wandered off stage left to thunderous applause. Reese was waiting for him, already in her newsie costume.

"You were amazing!" she praised quietly, and threw her arms around his neck.

"Well, I did have amazing help to get here," he pointed out. With his initial opening night jitters relieved, he could enjoy sharing with the audience what this show had become. Except for the kiss. He still couldn't bring himself to cross that line with Reese, despite the growing hints of affection between them.

"I'm jus' not used to havin' wedder I stay or wedder I go matta to anybody," Seth said, as he had every other time they ran the scene. But something in the words suddenly rang with the events and tensions of the past few days, and he felt a rush of feelings rise unexpectedly with the rest of his lines. "An'…an' I'm not saying it should matta to you, but…but does it? Matta?"

Heat also rose to his neck and face when Reese made eye contact. _I hope they don't notice in the audience_. He knew Reese had, though she hid it well in the rest of the scene. After skyrocketing performances as the weekend had progressed, Seth didn't want to ruin the streak by breaking character. However, amid the euphoria of finales both literal and artistic, he found himself naturally pulling her into a simple, few-second kiss.

"You were so awesome!" Lulu cried when the cast came out to meet and greet with the crowd. For once, Seth didn't mind his little sister throwing her arms around his middle.

"And that kiss." Shane punched his arm lightly. "You really know how to make 'em fall for you."

Seth's face went scarlet, which only deepened when Reese appeared beside him. She took the many compliments modestly before asking to speak with Seth alone. They retreated to a staircase leading to the emergency exit.

"He's right, you know. Tonight was easily your best performance," she began. Then her expression turned quiet and tentative. "Except it wasn't all acting, was it?"

_Uh-oh_. "Um, well, maybe…" Seth realized it might just be better to get it over with. "I mean it's okay if you don't really feel that way. I just thought about the last few weeks, and…I jumped to conclusions, it was stupid, and anyway, you already said with your job—" His rambling explanation was stemmed by Reese's hand over his mouth.

"It'd be a balancing act, yeah," she said. Something was leaving her indecisive in what she wanted to say. "I'm not real sure of anything coming up in the next couple weeks. What I do is what I've been around all my life, and I love it. Which would mean I have to accept the sacrifices."

Disappointed, Seth tried to nod to show he understood.

"_However_," Reese continued. "Lately I've been wondering if it might be time to move on. Settle down, if you will, let myself have a normal life for real. My parents have been dead for almost three years. Claire and Shane have already offered me a place should I want to leave the agency. I think…I might take them up on it."

Seth's mood leapt hopefully. "So you'd stay here?"

"_If _I choose to leave work. I'm waiting at least until this job is over before I seriously think about it. Right now, I need all the focus I can get. But I won't deny that you would factor into it, Seth Plummer; few people in my line of work have character like yours."

"And you've probably met fewer of them?" Seth guessed, smiling.

Reese shrugged. "Mmm, give or take. Your dad was one of them, though. Anyway, good job this weekend. He'd really be proud of you. I have to rendezvous with my boss over the phone tonight, so I'll have to duck out early. See you on Monday." She squeezed his hand lightly before turning to leave.

Seth was speechless. Despite the suddenness, despite everything required of her, Reese really wanted to consider a relationship. _And_ she had known his dad, of all people in the government! He decided then and there that he would help her achieve this transition anyway he could. Her mission would wrap on Friday—how many incidents could the CIA be willing or pressed to put a teenager on? Surely not enough to reassign her immediately.

He remained deep in his thoughts the entire way home. _So everything rests on Friday now_. All Reese had to do was get past Friday. Then everyone could be happy.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Time moved faster than Seth could have imagined. He couldn't decide, though, if this was good or not; he was as anxious about the close of Reese's mission as he was looking forward to what was possible after it.

Reese, too, was getting jumpy again. She was more worried than ever about being caught by her target.

"Wouldn't it work out better if we could snag him too, though?" Seth asked during lunch on Thursday.

Reese played with a hole she'd cut in the cuff of her black jacket. "As far as the goals we want to accomplish, yes. But it's more complicated than that. This guy is brilliant, probably more so than a fair number currently working at the agency. It's too much of a risk to have him and the computer in the same place, and think we'll get away with both."

"So your boss is just going to let 'im go free?"

"I don't know," Reese said, rather tersely. "That's why I haven't finalized my decision to quit and stay here. Unless we find some way to catch him separately, I'll probably be needed to keep tailing him. We'll see."

Seth's apprehension was still unmoving when they caught their separate rides Friday afternoon. In roughly an hour, Reese would be meeting the CIA transport in the private parking lot behind the community theatre. He'd overhead a conversation with her boss by accident.

His plan was simple—stake out the lot from the edge of the park, which was across the street, about fifteen minutes before the meeting. He would stay out of sight the entire time, unless something went wrong. And Seth couldn't shake the feeling that something about this was _very_ wrong. Neither Reese nor the CIA would be happy with his nosing around, but he couldn't make himself sit around at home while this was going on.

Nothing moved for a long time at the lot. Seth had brought his homework as a cover, though his mind was far from the algebra equations in front of him. He'd even traded in his usual black wardrobe for khakis, a long-sleeve t-shirt, and open button-up. _Wait—what if __**Reese**__ checks the area? She'd be able to pick me out a lot easier than the CIA guys would. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…_

He almost started to pack up his stuff. Who was he to mess with government affairs, anyway? Then he almost psychically felt the atmosphere of the area change, as if he'd been doused with cold water. Seth spun around. A black van had just pulled around the corner, turned into the lot, and parked close to the stage door. This was it. Two men in plain civilian clothes got out of the front seats and began unloading what looked like small set pieces into the stage door. About a minute later, Reese pulled up on a bike, her backpack full of what Seth knew was not homework.

But they scarcely had time for hellos when apparently a sound was heard in the unseen alley that ran from the corner. The men pushed Reese into the van's back doors, waited for something Seth couldn't detect, nodded, and covered each other going into the alley.

Seth broke cover before he'd really decided what to do. His books were still lying in the grass, but he had his cell phone. The men hadn't returned yet form the alley. He was almost across and into the lot. The doors of the van faced away from the alley's mouth. Maybe he could quietly sneak Reese out to safety… He slowed down, not wanting to scare her. Then a faint sound came twice from the alley, one Seth had heard so many times on TV, but never thought he'd encounter in real life. The sound of a gun with a silencer attached, if he wasn't mistaken. And he hoped he was. He had to get her out of here.

"Reese? It's me. We gotta go now!" he hissed as he edged around the door. The slight girl was standing in front of a heavy-looking device, a gun aimed at the opening. Seth instinctively put his hands up.

"_Are you crazy_?! What're you doing—never mind, _you're_ the one who has to get to safety! Go!" she whispered, voice tight with fear.

"Not without you and that thing!" Seth climbed into the van, extending a hand to her. Suddenly Reese's face went chalk white. She shook her head frantically at something over Seth's shoulder.

"C'mon, we—" Stars and pain exploded from the back of Seth's head, and everything went black.


	4. Reese's Story

- - - - - - - - - - - Reese's Story - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - - - - - - - - - Reese's Story - - - - - - - - - - -

"Uhhgh…" Seth's head pounded as he came to. He was vaguely aware of bright light, though his eyes were still closed. Something was also stirring behind him; it brushed his hands, which were tied behind his back.

"W-wha'? Where are we?" a voice mumbled. A girl's voice.

"Reese?"

"Yesmhere. I—wait…no way…_why_?" There was a note of terror in that last word that sent ominous chills down Seth's spine.

"Reese…where are we?"

"She knows where we are," answered a cool, emotionless voice. "I changed my mind at the last minute. It should be more conducive to…_coercion_, considering the circumstances." Seth realized he knew that voice. His eyes snapped open.

They sat in the center of a bare warehouse floor. Evening sunlight poured in the grimy windows to Seth's left. He squinted and twisted around toward the direction of the voice. The van was parked inside, and Trenton was leaning against its driver's-side door.

"_You_?"

"Yes, Seth Plummer, it's me. You're instincts were correct not to trust me when I started dating your sister—don't think I didn't notice. But it looks like you fell for the act in the end, anyway."

Seth was finding it hard to concentrate with his head still throbbing. "Whadda you mean?"

Trenton chuckled to himself. "Well, she is quite the convincing actress, though I'll admit she had me worried towards the end. Or maybe I'm just giving you too much credit. Your girlfriend here has been working for me longer than she's worked for the CIA. _She's_ the reason I now have the super computer."

"Reese?" Seth twisted as far around as he could. The girl had bowed her head, avoiding him. Blood streaked the right side of her face.

"I'm sorry I had to hurt you, love," Trenton continued, obviously speaking to her now. "You know I couldn't risk taking your nosy agency on in the open. You had to keep quiet. If that means one more bump on the head, so be it. But we're all friends here, so we can do things businesslike. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

As soon as the door closed, Seth finally allowed himself to return to a more comfortable position, or as close as he could get to one. His mind was spinning. _Reese, a traitor?_ "So, um, it sounds like he sure likes to here himself talk," he finally said hopefully. "I mean, he's just toying with us, right?"

An audible sniff came from behind him. It was the first sound she'd made in several minutes.

"Reese?"

"He's telling the truth," she quietly choked out, "in a really twisted, sickening way."

"You really did help him steal this thing out from under the CIA's nose? _Why_? "

"It's a long story," Reese snapped. "But first you gotta understand something. Whatever idiot in Hollywood decided that all secret agents are trained to face anything and not be afraid to die has it _so_ wrong.

"I mean, sure, there's quite a few in the field who have nothing to lose; some degree of fearlessness is required to do your job right. But when it comes down to it, in a situation like this, a lot of us are scared of what's going to happen in the end. I'm sixteen, Seth. I haven't even had time to get a driver's license 'cause 'a Trenton. _I don't want to die, thank you_."

Though he wasn't sure how, Seth realized that this ran a lot deeper into Reese's memories and emotions than she let on. "What happened three years ago, Reese?" he asked slowly. At first, he thought she wasn't going to answer.

"They'd been tailing this mob boss up and down the East Coast for five or six years," Reese said with obvious effort. "When he couldn't escape custody altogether, he managed to wriggle out in the courts. My parents finally asked to hand the mission over to another team, since the longer they were undercover, the longer I was kept under strict government protection. Yeah, all the moving around, getting acting jobs under a different name, the whole bit to keep me occupied. Anyway, arrangements were sorted out, and we were cleared for a vacation. All classified, of course.

"I don't know how he found us. Mob bosses just have a knack for it, I guess. We were abducted from a train station partway through the trip, and brought to an abandoned warehouse. This one, in fact." She was showing less and less composure. "Weeks passed. My parents were, _coerced_, if you will, for information the CIA had on this guy. Sometimes…sometimes they tortured me to try to crack them. We didn't even see the boss himself most of the time. He had an assistant to do his dirty work, a boy barely a few years older than me, but raised around organized crime and espionage.

"Trenton started to take pity on me. He said my parents had gotten in too deep, but I was young and 'untainted.' He avoided truly hurting me as much as possible while his boss cut deals with the government—we would be released, provided no authority be sent after him again. Of course, neither side trusted the other to stick to it."

At this point, Reese's emotions finally seemed to overcome her. She was sobbing uncontrollably, trapped in whatever vivid memories this place had to be recalling. Seth fumbled with his bound hands until he found hers and held them tight.

"It's okay to be scared. We can make it through this. Shane'll've realized something's gone wrong and be figuring out a plan."

"The day we were supposed to be released, the mobster lined us up right here, in the center of the floor," Reese barreled on as if she hadn't heard him. "He didn't want to chance a meeting with the CIA no matter what they said. Said only one thing ensured people would keep quiet. Trenton…waited while…while the _monster_…put a round in each of my parents. B-both fatal shots, but by no means…quick and painless, shall we say? Then he unexpectedly found him self out of ammunition."

"Lucky break for you?" Seth immediately knew this was the wrong thing to blurt out. He was desperate for some happy ending to this nightmare story.

"_Lucky_? I got to watch my parents thrash around until they died, Seth. I still remember everything in slow motion. Their flailing and screams of pain, and then the gun being pointed at me. 'I'm awful sorry you had to see all this' he said. I closed my eyes, trying to block it all out…a shot fired, but I felt no pain. It took me a minute to realize that Trenton had pulled a gun on his own boss. He saved me that day…"

Something in her voice made Seth twist around despite his protesting head. Reese's eyes had a faraway look, even from this angle, her face oddly relaxed and peaceful. Suddenly another piece fell into place.

"You liked him, didn't you?"

Reese turned and looked Seth in the eye for the first time since their arrival. "Yes."

"But he'd just killed a guy! He did all that stuff to your parents, to you. How does that make him any less of a monster than his boss? What's left to like about 'im?"

"Ever heard of Stockholm's Syndrome?" It was neither a demand nor an insult. "At the most basic level, it's when a captive develops an emotional attachment—most often a form of love—to his or her captor. In the midst of a waking nightmare, Trenton showed me pity and condolence. He said he would do all he could for me. And he eventually saved my life. I was naïve. I never expected he would want something in return.

"He played on my fears and desire for fairness, wove stories that promised I wouldn't be hurt anymore. All I had to do was let him keep in touch with me, and…_assist_ him in things from time to time. I should have picked up that something wasn't right. The tasks had more and more to do with the government as I was taken in and trained by the CIA as a specialized agent. Whenever I got reluctant, Trenton started blackmailing me with my parents' murders. I got confused. How could the boy I'd fallen for be willing to threaten as soon as sweet talk me? My mind threw up red flags continually about this, but somewhere deep inside I guess I still wanted his old promises to come true. He represented a closeness I'd never felt with my surrogate family."

"Even though you knew the truth?" Seth offered to finish.

"Yeah, I know," Reese admitted. "So you see why I'm stuck now. It's a sort of love-hate thing. I'm appalled at some of the stuff he's done in the past, and yet I can't bring myself to walk away. Well, you can't _just_ walk away from anything in this kind of work…"

"So what happened when he became your mission?"

"I've never taken on anything so difficult in my life. The only reason I had so much more success with it than others was because Trenton would feed the CIA bits of information through me—tips and such from fabricated sources. I told you he was brilliant. He pulled the strings on nearly every move the CIA has made on the case. But something happened in the last stage of the plan."

"What?"

"You. Yeah, I was supposed to befriend you or one of the others to gain access to anything your dad left behind. What I didn't count on was feeling something real—like you said." Reese shifted in her chair. "And you didn't just let me feel what it would be like not to be in the CIA. You showed me that I was still capable of a real life and a real relationship, one outside Trenton's control. Trouble is, he caught on that I was starting to see things differently, and now I've dragged you into it."

"Hey, I got myself into this," Seth protested. "Though it doesn't make me feel any better about it. I knew something was wrong with the whole thing."

"Yeah…me."

"_No_. I figured if Trenton was going to make any other moves, it would be today. I showed up because I wanted to be sure nothing happened to you."

"Well, honorable as they are, good intentions aren't going to be enough to help us now. He's only just begun. If he taps into the arsenal of methods used on my parents—" she swallowed hard; "you haven't seen anything yet." The windows were now considerably dimmer now, having turned a soft shade of liquid gold.

"You can still fight 'im. What more could he want from you?"

"Access to that computer, for one. It's very effectively locked away in that van right now, and only I know how to retrieve it."

"What an excellent way to start off our time together," Trenton cut in to announce his return. "Why don't you tell me how to open the safe?"

When Reese remained nervously silent, Seth knew they were in for it.


	5. Deja vu

- - - - - - - - - - Déjà vu- - - - - - - - - - -

- - - - - - - - - - Déjà vu- - - - - - - - - - -

In true CIA style, no one would know by looking at the Plummers' house that it had just become an extension of the agency's offices. Even so, Shane couldn't believe what was happening.

"You should have backed her up, Lieutenant," sighed Michael Tanner, Reese's supervisor-cum-guardian.

"With all due respect, sir, we've gone over this—"

"_Humor me_."

"I _was_ standing by to back her up. She never contacted me. When I got suspicious, I scoped it out carefully from the corner. The van was gone. At first, I wanted to assume that she'd just left with your men and not told me. Then I found the bodies. Both men, dead, with hasty execution-style blows to the head. Reese said this dirtbag was brilliant, sir."

"And what about the boy?"

"Reese had told me to stay completely out of sight, sir. I ha no idea Seth was even there—"

"She's sixteen, Shane," Tanner pressed. "Field agent or not, you can't let her change the protocol like that. Look where it's got us! We've got a missing agent and a missing civilian on our hands!"

Shane sank to the couch, throwing a glance back at the kitchen, where Claire was trying to calm Seth's mother. "I understand the situation as it stands, sir. I made a call, and it went bad. The question is, what now?"

For the first time, Tanner actually looked unsure of himself. "Hopefully not what we did last time."

"Sir?"

"The first mission I supervised was the Bryants', tailing a mob boss with a knack for slipping through the cracks. They'd just opted to trade out with another team—Reese hadn't been on a real vacation since the age of three—when they were all kidnapped. We negotiated with the mobster for over two weeks trying to recover them alive. I've never been so scared in my life. Reese was still just a child."

Dread was beginning to rise in Shane's chest. "What happened?"

"Toby and Kate were both dead by the time we got there. Shot execution-style before the mobster's own lackey turned on 'im. And Reese was barely holding together herself. It's the same nightmare all over again." Tanner sank into another seat, head in hands.

"We'll find 'em both," Shane said firmly. "Alive."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Seth was unnerved by the predatory way Trenton kept circling their chairs. The sun had set long ago now, revealing a single light beaming straight down from the vast ceiling. Hollywood couldn't have done better.

"I'm surprised at you, Reese," the older boy said coolly. "One would have thought you, of all people, would be accommodating to the situation's potential. You know what could be avoided."

"Somehow I don't see how giving in to you would change anything in the outcome—_that's_ from knowing the situation's potential." Reese's voice was shaking. Seth twisted in his seat, Trenton having stopped in front of his other captive.

"Come now, you know me better than anyone else, I think. I can be merciful when persuaded to."

"Bah," snorted Reese. Her temper finally got the better of her. "Tell that to my parents. They told you everything you and your boss wanted to know after three days, and we were here for weeks. You _enjoyed_ watching them suffer—ahh!"

Trenton slapped her so hard she would have fallen from her chair, if she hadn't been tied to it. "They deserved it, the sneaks! Sure, it's all in the name of freedom and equal opportunity…as long as no one opposes you. Some of us _lowly_ mortals were the hope and pride of our families. We had a chance to make it! I was supposed to be on the same track as you; my genius capabilities more than merited it, even at age twelve. But I was _refused_, all because I came from the poor, mob-flooded population. Too risky to let one of _them_ in. Better stick to those bred and groomed for the job."

He glared stiffly at Reese. "That day crushed what scant dreams I had into dust. And it didn't stop there. A secret raid on the mob hit our neighborhood barely two weeks later. Six people I'd known my entire life were either killed or arrested before it was over. Six! The feds had no mercy for us. And their mission didn't even succeed! People like me were left to replace the very threats they had tried to eradicate! It was the only option we had left. All that stopped me from killing you three years ago was 'cuz I saw a chance for revenge. A chance to humiliate them with their own pride and joy, and maybe take it away altogether. The fact that Shane Wolfe got dragged into this made it even better. And once I have the super computer, combined with technology I designed myself, I will show the whole federal government that what they did to me was the biggest mistake they ever made!"

Reese's shoulders were shaking. Seth saw glistening tears slip down the red welt on her cheek. If Trenton was surprised, he hid it very well.

"Don't think that you'll gain sympathy now. You've chosen your fate."

"I just don't get it!" Reese burst out. "We're both victims for what others around us chose to do, not what _we_ chose to do! This isn't your fault _or_ mine!"

"You're stalling, Agent Bryant." Trenton leveled a knife at her face. Seth saw her resolution crumbling quickly.

"Don't just give up now, Reese!" he told her as calmly as he could make himself sound. "He can't kill you while you're his only link to the computer. You're too valuable! All you have to do is hold out."

It was a stupid move, and he knew it, opening his mouth in front of Trenton. But the older boy appeared to have been caught off guard. His knife hand lowered somewhat, and indecision flitted across his features. This was quickly covered by a hard mask.

"Unfortunately, he's right. I can't get too carried away if I want to gain anything coherent from you, at least for now…_he's_ a different story!"

Seth stiffened as the knife was suddenly pressed to his throat. _Yup, stupid move_. A strangled cry issued from behind. Reese was struggling to free herself for the first time.

"No!"

Trenton smiled unpleasantly. "You're making this exceedingly difficult on yourself, you know. Now let's stop the games and—"

"Keeping the computer safe is more important than I will ever be; don't sacrifice it to spare me the pain if it won't make a difference!" Seth didn't know what else to say, but was spared the task by Trenton's fist slamming into the side of his head. For the second time in less than 12 hours, stars danced in his vision. Two more punches to various parts of his face followed before Trenton heeded Reese's pleas to stop. Blood was dripping onto the front of Seth's exposed t-shirt.

"Considered your words carefully in the future," Trenton warned with lethal intensity. "If falter, if you lie, if you try to cross me, you will be punished. And _he_ will get twice what you do. I'll give you until morning to think about that."

His footsteps echoed, followed by a door _booming_ shut. Seth attempted to wipe his rapidly-bruising face, smearing a fair amount of blood on his button-up. Behind him, the sounds of Reese's crying had resumed.

"Are you okay?" Without waiting for him to answer, she added, "It's all j-just like l-last time. Trenton w-won't hesitate trying to kill if he—hic—has to. I c-can't do this again, Seth."

"Believe me, I'm just as scared. If we weren't, I'd think we were crazy. But we can't just give in to him. You're an actress—make something up for awhile."

"But I'm panicking. He's always been able to see through anything when I do."

"It doesn't have to be foolproof, just convincing enough to stall 'im until the CIA tracks you down."

"Oh, _that'll_ go over well," Reese shot back sarcastically. "I practically handed Trenton the key to the world. Ever wonder what the CIA was doing on a domestic case? That's because it's not; terrorist groups would line up an' pay anything for this kind of technology. Maybe we'll be able to track some of them down now. But think about it. Everything the government has been trying to stamp out, gaining complete access to the world's most powerful countries. And I helped bring that about. Ya think they'll take my involvement kindly?"

"Trenton's already taken care of that, whether he meant to or not. _He _made it look like he took you by surprise—captured just for doing your job. They'll see that—"

"Nothing will stop him from telling when they catch 'im. In fact, that'd be just like him to squeal. It's my word against his. Fits right in with his plan to humiliate the government. I'm their crown jewel, their success story."

Seth was stumped for a minute. "We'll figure out something…it's not like we've got much else to do. Sleep'll be a miracle with the nights getting colder. Man, there's so much I take for granted at home." He managed a chuckle. When Reese didn't answer, he took her hand reassuringly again. "Hang in there. If anyone can track us down fast, it's Shane when he's on a mission. I never thought I'd actually miss those dumb tracers he made us wear."

Despite her tears, Reese giggled this time. The sound made Seth smile, cracking the blood already drying on his face. "Think it over for tonight, and try to sleep if you can. Now is not the time to freak out, okay?"

"Okay," Reese replied in a small voice. "And Seth?"

"Yeah?" Seth twisted around to find her looking straight at him.

"I still mean what I said about liking you. All the stuff that Trenton said earlier…falling in love wasn't in the plan. But I did." Reese paused, then snorted to herself. "It's probably the only real thing in this whole mess."

"I know. And I still believe you."

"You do?"

"Yeah," Seth chuckled. "It's this thing you do with your eyes. I can see so much farther into them when you're being truly honest. They lose that quality when you lie, though."

"Huh…cool. Well, goodnight, I guess."

"'Night, Reese."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Wakey-wakey, Plummer."

Seth groaned as a hand roughly tapped his sore cheek. Light was just beginning to filter through the dirty windows, so the overhead light still cast shadows on Trenton's down-turned face. The close proximity made Seth jump, promptly smashing his fingers between the chairs. His grimace made Trenton laugh.

"Have a nice nap? Well, I told you you had 'til morning to think about your position." He resumed his path around the captives, using the knife from the night before to clean under his nails.

"I—I can't," Reese stammered. "I can't take this anymore. The treason, the inside jobs, the torturing blackmail that you heap up on top of everything else I've been forced to do. Maybe I'm better of dead anyway."

With lightning reflexes, Trenton had her by the throat so tightly that the back legs of her chair left the floor. "That can be arranged, if it's what you _really_ want. Tell me what _I_ want, and I promise your suffering will not be prolonged." Her chair slammed back to the floor. Then the older boy was once more in front of Seth. "Just remember our agreement: he gets double the punishment when you resist. Double the injuries…double the pain."

The knife flashed out once, twice. Seth gritted his teeth as the angled flat of the blade slapped each of his cheeks, leaving two white-hot streaks of pain. The faint sensation of blood trickling down his jaw followed barely moments later. Shock took his whole attention, leaving him unawares when a punch to the stomach hit its mark.

"And that's just because I don't like you," Trenton said off-handedly. "Too nosy for your own good. While Reese can always be accepted as a casualty of the field, you are a civilian, who thus complicates the situation. They'll really be after me now. All for precious—little—Seth—Plummer." He emphasized each word with another blow to Seth's body. Seth couldn't breathe. He was fighting panic and unconsciousness, losing awareness of his surroundings in the attempt to keep himself going.

"Don't! I'll tell you! Just don't take your bitterness out on him!" Reese's voice was shrill, and strangely muffled. The shadow in Seth's blurry vision moved out of sight as Trenton's attention was again diverted. His return to normal breathing was agonizing and slow. The threat of blacking out still loomed, though his head was just clear enough to make out the conversation behind him.

"This particular business doesn't concern _you_. But all the same, if you're willing to talk…"

"Not if you're going to lay into Seth at whim. Like you said—I'm the one you want. Leave him alone and…an' I'll tell you everything you need to know."

"Well, I'll give you credit for being better suited to this than I thought after all. Fast thinking, smooth invitation to negotiate." There was a metallic _whap_, closely followed by a stifled yelp of pain. "Don't forget that _I_ make the calls here. _I'm_ in control. _I own you, _Reese. As the situation stands, I'll give in to your request. For now. Whether it remains that way is yet to be seen."

Reese was slowly bringing her own breathing under control. "Every high-security transport is planned with the possibility of a snatch. I don't have a key anymore. My job was to lock it up and break the key card. That way it stays locked until the transport is complete."

"Sensible tactic. Literally render the safe unbreakable while in transit. I must admit, even I wouldn't have come up with such a plan. So, how does one get into the safe at the end of the trip?"

"There's an access code that the techs use—I couldn't get it, for security, obviously. But Shane does, just in case there's an emergency outside the office. The trick is the lock mechanism has to be custom programmed each time it's used. You can't make a new key until the previous one has been completed. I didn't know about that part until right before the drop. No plan runs completely without risks. I tried."

"Interesting," Trenton sneered. "I was under the impression that I would be notified of any potential problems. Plus, you _conveniently_ decided to go ahead and lock it anyway. I don't like being lied to, Agent Bryant." Seth flinched at the sound of fists meeting flesh. At one point, the older boy struck her so hard that Reese's chair toppled sideways. Trenton pulled her up by her short hair, to be finally rewarded by a cry of pain. Then, silence.

Seth braced himself; he knew his turn was coming again. _Double the injuries…double the pain_. He wanted to fight back somehow, but no food, little sleep, and being tied to a chair was starting to take its toll, not to mention the beatings. The last thing he remembered clearly was Trenton's quiet footsteps. As soon as the blows began to fall, he knew he couldn't hold out this time…


	6. The Opportune Moment

- - - - - - - - - - - The Opportune Moment - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - - - - - - - - - The Opportune Moment - - - - - - - - - - -

Shane jumped as if he'd been slapped in the face. He'd dozed off at the Plummers' kitchen table. _Really_ dozed off, considering the midmorning sunlight and continual chatter pervading the house. Then he realized the tone had changed—_something's got them excited_.

It took a bit of wandering to find Tanner, who was intently focused at the phone tap. The volume was loud enough to hear who was on the other line.

"…Have him meet me at the same place, alone. That's all I want."

"What about the hostages?" Tanner countered. "The last time we dealt with you, you screwed us over and left two of 'em dead. Call it a trade—Shane'll talk to you, you bring the kids. Fair enough?"

"And I'd be dead before I could move three feet," the voice sneered. "I'm not stupid; that's why I'm still alive and you're still groveling. Let me put it this way: the longer this banter takes, the less chance you have of seeing Agent Bryant or the Plummer kid alive again. Maybe even at all, if the mood strikes me. It would make my revenge all the sweeter. Remember—today, 4:00, same place, _Shane only_. For their sake and yours." The connection went dead.

"Location?" Tanner rapped out.

"Corner of the park, sir," replied the tap operator. "Outside, public place…this guy knows what he's doing. He'll probably dump the phone now, too."

"Here." Tanner tossed a cell phone to Shane. "You didn't wake up when it rang. Makes me real nervous if he managed to get a hold of your number, though. I oversaw Reese's training myself."

Shane glanced at his call log. "It's Seth's. The creep must've taken his phone as a precaution. "And anyway, Reese has the pressure of keeping Seth alive. She cares about 'im, and this Trenton kid could easily find him dispensable." His heart sank at the thought. After guarding the Plummer family through the madness following their father's death, one disappears right out from under his nose.

"She wanted to leave after this wrapped up, you know. Wanted a chance to move on, have a normal life."

"We can still give her that chance, Tanner. We'll get them back."

"Right." Tanner stepped back to address the room. "Okay, we know this kid can't risk going too far with an agent for a hostage. So he has to be reasonably close to home base. Check everything within about a mile radius from that point—abandoned buildings, houses, places that sit on the South bus route, anything. See what unusual activity crops up."

A chorus of 'yes sirs' sounded off around Shane.

"Then let's get it done. Shane, I want you to give Trenton what he wants, if only I had a surefire way to buy more time."

"What does he think I have?"

"The access code to the safe in that van."

"But I _don't. _ Only the techs—"

"Reese must have lied to force his hand, which unfortunately still leaves us with the difficult move. He's brilliant—and volatile. I want to be able to see the finish line before I agree to a move like this, but there's just no way to predict his behavior from here on out. We're just where we were last time."

"And what did you choose last time?"

"They got tipped off that we were moving in before we could even get close. I want to just take 'im out at the meeting, but he's our only lead on the hideout if we can't nail it down ahead of time. There's just so little wiggle room left, I can't—"

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down. You're letting your private concern for Reese keep you from thinking clearly. She knew what the risks were doing this job. This guy is trying to milk all the revenge he can get out of the situation; he'll make sure he's got what he wants before deeming the hostages not to be of any further use to him. That buys us a little time. If I could hide a GPS directly in my clothes—not as any kind of accessory, he'll expect that—I should be able to keep 'im busy long enough for you to make it this time."

Tanner nodded slowly. "That might be the closest to airtight as we'll ever get, anyway. Just one thing—I want communication and a six-hour on you when you go in."

"Sir, it's too risky. That'll tip 'im off for sure that we got—"

"His beef's with us. He'll notice if it looks like we're making the same mistakes. Gives the impression that he's still in control, which is what he needs to feel above all else. Trust me on this one."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

In the eerie silence, Reese fought to keep the latest wave of panic at bay. It _had_ to be close to lunchtime by now, though despite the bright sun, the warehouse remained cold and drafty. She couldn't quite stop shivering. But that wasn't what worried her the most. Seth hadn't moved or spoken since Trenton had stormed out.

Cold fingers weren't a reliable indicator, of course, considering their surroundings. This information still failed to comfort her. She had no way of knowing how badly Seth was hurt…unless she managed to free herself.

Reese immediately set about exploring how she'd been tied, and had just found part of the knot that had been worked loose when she heard movement that wasn't her own. She froze.

"Uhhnnn…"

"Seth!" Reese hissed. "C'mon Seth, stay with me. You've got to stay awake until we can get out of here, okay?" Hang in there." She twisted around as far as the ropes would allow.

Seth tried to straighten up in his chair, causing him to inhale sharply. Blood had smeared and dripped everywhere. Underneath, bruises were already visible on much of his face. "How are you holding up?" he finally gasped.

"Probably better than you, at the moment. You've been out for several hours now."

"'M fine. Don't worry about me."

"Yeah, right. You do realize he could have killed you with his bare hands, don't you?"

"Considered it. But we can't—"

"—Let 'im get the computer. _I know_."

"Then why'd ya tell 'im?"

"Because it forced him to contact Shane. Now they have something to work off of. And anyway, it still wasn't quite the truth." She smiled in spite of herself.

"Oh. Well that's always helpful." Seth gingerly squirmed around for awhile, apparently trying to stretch his cramped muscles. "So, what now?"

"I think Trenton's gone to meet Shane or someone in person. If we could…_disappear_ for awhile, they'll be able to snag him without risk to us. All I'm worried about is that he's still carrying."

"'Carrying?'"

"Six-hour pistol in the small of the back. The silencer's bouncing around in his jacket pocket. I thought you watched a lot of those crime shows."

"_Oh_."

"Yeah. We'll have to work fast, though, if we want the illusion to work right. I'm not going to keep sitting back while he beats the crap outta you."

"But you're the one he wants."

"That's why I can't stand it. I've been thinking about everything Trenton's blackmailed me with. It's not like we're short on time around here. There's so much that people have taken on for me; I figured it's time I stood up and taken some on myself. Don't try to talk me out of it if I get the chance."

"Okay, okay." Seth grinned for a moment despite the pain he probably felt. "Do you think they'll get here in time?"

Reese took a deep breath. "I think we'll have to accept whatever course of action they take as the best one. Remember, Trenton's got more than just us. But like I said earlier, I don't want to die if can be helped."

"It's okay to be scared, Reese. No one expects you to be the perfect agent, and they certainly won't think any less of you."

"I guess sometimes I do," she said quietly.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Okay, I have a visual, coming down the east side of the park. He appears unarmed, but don't take that at face value."

"Copy that. Sit tight unless he makes any threatening moves. With any luck, he'll cooperate an' this'll be over by dinnertime."

"You know the chances for something _not_ going screwy are pretty much nil. He's a merciless wack job. He'll—"

"I know, now shut up and do your job so I can do mine. Shane, I've got a visual now, so he's all yours in about a minute and a half."

After tuning out most of the mindless chatter over the earwigs, Shane jumped when he realized Tanner was addressing him. "Copy that." Sure enough, Trenton soon appeared around the corner, heading straight for the building where Shane was waiting. He mentally kicked himself for not suspecting the kid earlier.

Though Trenton looked not much bigger than Seth in person, he surveyed Shane with disdain and calculation worthy of _The Godfather_. _This kid really thinks he has it all figured out._

"So, you have it, the access code?" the boy asked coolly. His eyes immediately found each piece of equipment Tanner had insisted upon.

"Yes." Shane had great difficulty keeping his voice even, though he made no other outward show of emotion. "What about the hostages? How do we know they'll be released alive?"

"All in good time. You have to come with me anyway, to make sure I haven't been fed more government lies. What if I were to vent my displeasure on them?"

"Like we've got much choice," Tanner grumbled through the earwig. Do what he says; the plan'll back you up. And you can always take 'im hand-to-hand if needed."

Shane expressed his consent with mixed feelings, handed over his gun, and allowed Trenton to search him for everything else. Silence reigned for several minutes while the boy inspected each device—the only things left unnoticed were an ordinary pen and (Shane relaxed inwardly) the GPS. The rest went into a nearby trashcan.

"Very well," Trenton finally pronounced. "You will walk in front of me, naturally but with your hands in plain sight at all times. If you try to talk to anyone or turn on me, I will not hesitate to shoot you with your own gun." He tucked it in his jacket pocket with his finger on the trigger. "Understood?"

_He really thinks we're at his mercy, it's unreal._ Shane nodded. They set off the way Trenton came.

"So how's a brilliant kid like you get cornered into this kind of work?" Shane ventured to ask after awhile. "You still got your whole life ahead of you—opportunities to go anywhere."

"That time came and went," Trenton spat. "I became exactly what your precious agencies branded me as from the beginning. _They_ made the choice, and rejected all other options for me. Tanner, the Bryants, _you_…you're not even close to my capabilities. But I was unclean, because I lived too close to the mob, and thus was not _worthy_ of the same opportunities."

"You can still change that around, Trenton. There are deals—"

"Don't try to soften me up with that I-know-what-you're-feeling crap, not when you're a government pet, yourself, from what I've heard. You all had your chance." They rounded a corner, bringing several derelict buildings into view. Trenton started to push Shane towards the nearest one when something made him freeze. He felt more carefully the fabric under his hand. Then, almost too fast for Shane to react at all, the lanky boy had him pinned to the wall with both arms twisted in a police hold. The GPS was ripped from its hiding place.

"You dare to toy with their lives?" he hissed in Shane's ear, throwing the device on the ground. "By rights I should walk in and kill them right now. But senseless rage doesn't leave much leverage on you." Trenton pulled out a pair of handcuffs found in one of Shane's pockets and secured them to his new captive's wrists. "Understand, however, that when you walk in here, you join the rules. Good behavior keeps you alive; attempts to cross me are punishable for everyone. I _will_ walk out of this. Let's hope, for all of your sakes, that you don't bluff about this access code."

And without compromising his grip on Shane, Trenton unlocked the door and pushed him inside.


	7. Not Like Him

- - - - - - - - - Not Like Him - - - - - - - - -

- - - - - - - - - Not Like Him - - - - - - - - -

Reese's wrists ached and the skin burned from prying at the ropes all afternoon. Her own bonds had taken long enough; Seth's felt even more difficult with fatigue setting in. They'd gone almost 24 hours now without food or water, and she felt a growing sense of urgency to make them disappear. Not outside, of course—human instinct in this kind of situation looked to be as far away as possible, leaving closer locations actually safe to hide in.

But she never she never got to test her thoughts. She was roughly halfway through Seth's bonds when a door slammed open, blocked form view by the van. Reese made out two familiar figures, one thin and dark-haired, the other muscular and bald.

"Shane!"

The big ex-SEAL's head snapped up, followed by a look of horror at the condition of the two hostages.

"That's what happens when you don't follow the rules," Trenton said with a calm that was unnerving. He proceeded to tie Shane's handcuffs to one of the van's back door handles with a piece of rope, wherever _that_ had come from. Then he strode out towards the center of the warehouse. "You did something—you _told them_ something when I made contact to track me back here, you little traitor!"

Furious blows rained down on Reese, but she was ready. She ducked around and kicked, not where it counts, but low and angled to knock Trenton off balance. This gave her an opening to pull her hands free and strike back. She only managed one or two effective hits, though, before Trenton caught her in a headlock with one arm, and trap both of her hands behind her back with the other.

"Nice try, love. Such an appropriate action to back up your attitude. Now you get a front row seat to watch Plummer pay for it." He wrestled Reese around her now-empty chair.

"Trenton, wait!" Shane tried fervently to free himself, but his efforts went completely unnoticed.

Seth only had enough time to look up before a vicious kick sent him and his chair in different directions. The rope was still tangled around his wrists, leaving him no chance to defend himself.

Reese had to close her eyes to the muffled _thumps_ of Trenton's foot against Seth's already fragile body. After the third or forth one, there was a dull _crack_, and Seth's sudden cry of pain. If Trenton didn't let up soon, Seth was going to die…

"WAIT!" Shane bellowed from the van. "You still haven't tried to code yet. Don't you want to be sure you have what you want before you go dispensing of your leverage?"

The older boy finally stopped, staring owlishly, as if surprised that Shane was still there. "Why? Have you deceived me as well? There's a rule for that." He tightened his hold on Reese until her breath came in gasps. "I'd have to punish you, of course. But I've found it even more effective when you know your choices caused pain for someone else, someone you care about." He glanced down at Seth's motionless form. "It's the price you pay for crossing me, as Agent Bryant knows well, doesn't she?" He laughed when the girl couldn't gain the breath to protest.

"Let her go!" demanded Shane. "If there's anything wrong from here on out, it's between you and me."

"As you wish." Trenton flung Reese to the side. At the same time, a concealed gun fell out from under the boy's jacket to the floor. He took no notice. Reese had one hand on her neck and the other on her ankle, but otherwise seemed fine. The only sign of life from Seth was shallow, almost asthmatic breathing. He was probably unconscious.

"I have nothing to hide," Shane told their captor.

"I hope you don't," Trenton retorted darkly. "The consequences are adding up quickly. What's the code?" He covered Shane with the gun that remained in his hand.

"First you have to power the system back up, it'll've shut down by now. The switch is on the right side, and that'll take a couple minutes to come up. When the panel above the keypad is blue, press 'open.' That unlocks the keypad. Then you punch the code in, press 'enter,' and stand back. The lock swings out before the safe itself opens, and many a man has been caught unawares by it."

Shane allowed himself a smile; Trenton had disappeared inside the van as soon as the directions had started, which also allowed him to slip out the pen he'd been left with earlier. The tip was long and sturdy, a perfect tool for levering open a chain link in his handcuffs. Meanwhile, Trenton tapped the exterior of the safe impatiently.

"And what _is_ the code, for the last time?" he called harshly.

Shane took a deep breath. He really had no idea. "17, 91, 68," he strung out so Trenton could get it all down. Then there was silence. Shane worked furiously at the thin metal link. _Just a little farther…_ He hadn't quite made it, however, when a hoarse roar sounded from inside the van. Trenton stormed out, slammed Shane against the door he was bound to, and pointed the gun in his face.

"What'ja do, huh? You think this is a game?"

"I know it's not a game, Trenton, calm down. I must have memorized something wrong, then," Shane covered almost faster than his mind could think it up a cover. "We have time, and the safe won't lock down if we keep trying—let's just mess around with the digits a little. I'm sure I wasn't far off."

The squeal of tires could be heard not too far outside the building. Trenton glared at him. "Liar! You've just been playing for time! I can't get away now, not with the CIA teams sitting outside…unless they're preoccupied. And three hostages bleeding to death will undoubtedly keep them occupied.

"You were trained well; you can take pain and cover for others without fear. I admire that. But you've also revealed your choice, and through that, your weakness, which will be just as effective a punishment. You will watch me kill them, and then die knowing you failed your mission in every possible sense. I bid you farewell, Shane Wolfe."

Trenton turned to briskly round the van, pistol raised. Galvanized by desperation born of that final threat, Shane thrust his foot out and tripped the boy. The gun misfired into the air. Trenton's momentum broke the bent link in Shane's handcuffs as they both went down. It was Trenton who recovered first. He was running for Seth…Shane wasn't going to be able to catch him…armed men were bursting in all over the place…

_BANG-BANG!_

…Trenton fell back, spread-eagled, on the floor of the warehouse, a double-tap stamped red on his chest. All movement in the building stopped.

Reese was standing awkwardly just outside the now-bright pool of light on the floor. The six-hour Trenton had dropped was shaking in her hands. A tear rolled slowly down her dirty face. As Shane moved towards her, she dropped the gun, dropped to her knees, and crawled to her dead captor.

"Reese…?"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she was whispering. Tears flowed freely now, and with a sob, she buried her face in Trenton's blood-stained shirt. Confused murmurs began to circle through the task force around them.

"Reese, it's over. You're safe again," Shane said quietly.

"I couldn't let you do it again," she choked, still ignoring everyone else. "I couldn't let Seth die like my parents did. sniff I never hated you j-just because I liked him, you know. It just all became too much." Her sobs intensified. "Now I've bec-come just like you—a thief, a liar…and a m-m-murderer. God, please forgive me!" She broke down completely.

Shane got down slowly beside her, trying to comfort the trembling girl. "You did what you had to do, for all of us. That makes you nothing like him." Reese jumped at first when he touched her, then gradually accepted his company. Meanwhile, a couple of the task soldiers had turned their attention to Seth.

"Still breathing…he's in bad shape, though. Look at the bruises alone."

"They're both in bad shape. Get an ambulance and the ME down here."

Shane carried Reese to the warehouse door so Trenton's body was out of sight. But he ended up settling for just inside—media crews had already gotten wind of the situation, and were all camped out on the street. The last thing needed right now was overenthusiastic reporters spotting an injured girl.

Minutes passed. Reese fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion against Shane's arm, to his relief. Decent rest would do her more good than anything else at the moment. Finally, Tanner himself stepped inside.

"No, keep 'em out. We've still got the kids to evac, I won't have them disturbed by any blood-sucking reporters. They've been through well more than enough as it is. Oh, there, you are." The supervisor realized who was right at his feet. He paused at the sight of Reese's dirt-and blood-streaked face. "How're they doin'?"

"Resting, mostly," Shane answered. "I think Seth's stable for now. They say he's lost a fair amount of blood. The whole thing is more complicated than we thought, though. How much, we'll have to see when she's debriefed. I think it's safe to say very little can be taken at face value."

Tanner nodded. "EMTs are working on the most discreet route. Should be here in a few more minutes. Scene's been processed and the body moved until the ME's truck can make a similar appearance."

"So the ME's here, but not his truck?" It was the first thing Shane had heard in a long time that he found remotely funny. He certainly didn't mind having a lighter note to end on.

Someone caught Tanner's attention on his earwig. "Ambulance is here, over by the north door. Only one news guy there—best we could do, I'm afraid. Let's get these kids outta here."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

After the constant bustle of housing a command outpost for the CIA, Zoe found the quiet almost unnerving. They were left with no way to receive updates on the situation. What was happening to her brother? It had been over 24 hours now…

More of a reflex than a decision, she turned on the TV simply to have a noise to fill the emptiness in the house. The evening news was wrapping up. Zoe was about to change the channel when a late-breaking story came up.

"…Not much information is going to be available, I'm afraid, but there has definitely been an incident here on the Southside tonight. Federal officers have been in force in the area for the past hour or so, and it appears they have been dealing with a hostage situation. Two people were already removed from the scene a few minutes ago, and the officers seem to be waiting on more arrivals. Again, no IDs or details are being released at this time, the feds are keeping everything under wraps, but it does look like they've had a very serious situation—"

The doorbell ringing made Zoe jump a mile. All three of the younger Plummers were already racing for the door.

"Shane!"

Zoe sprang up, nearly colliding with her mother in the front hall. It was, indeed, the ex-SEAL walking into the house. His face was tired, drawn, and his clothes had traces of—to Zoe's horror—_blood_.

"Shane, what's happened?" Mrs. Plummer asked nervously.

The big man took a deep breath. _Uh-oh_. "First, let me explain it all before you jump to conclusions. I'm here to take you to Bethesda Hospital.

"The good news is everything important has been recovered. The computer's still intact, and both Reese and Seth are safe. They were in pretty bad shape when we got to 'em, though. Turns out the agency's had run-ins with Trenton before, and he's capable of a lot in 24 hours. Reese is pretty shaken up about the whole thing—shot 'im in defense of all three of us." The look on his face told the older ones present that it had been fatal.

Mrs. Plummer clapped a hand to her mouth. The younger kids peppered Shane with questions. Zoe was simply stunned, so much so that she sat down on the bottom stairs to the second floor. _Trenton_ was the one behind this? And now he was _dead_? It didn't make any sense to her numb brain. To accept this news would be to accept that her entire relationship of the past two months was a lie. Trenton had used her to get close to her dad's work. But then again, Reese had done the same thing. So what did that make her? Shock was not the word. Nothing in the world seemed to be real anymore. The more Zoe thought about her supposed boyfriend, the more emotions were stirred up. And yet she couldn't hate him—

"Honey? Are you okay?"

Zoe took one look at her mom and burst into tears. "I just don't know what to think anymore! Everyone around here has secrets and lies and you can't seem to trust 'em no matter what they tell you next. I mean, look at Reese! How could she stand being here for _two months_ with Trenton sneaking around if she was after him all along? No, she let it go until he could really hurt people, and now she's supposed to be the hero. I'm _sick_ of all this stuff happening to our family!"

"Shh. It's hard, I know. Remember, Shane said they didn't know the identity of their target, only a description and a pattern of movements and behavior. The rest of the story won't be clear until they can talk to Reese. For now, let's just go to the hospital and see your brother."

The wait was agonizing, whether at the house or in the waiting room. Seth was still in surgery when they arrived. There had been complications when he reacted badly to an antibiotic. Reese had already transferred to a semi-private room, though she was not allowed visitors until her superiors cleared it. An agent stood guard outside the door.

One hour passed, then two, without further word on Seth's condition. Claire joined them in the waiting room, and soon helped make Peter, Tyler, and a reluctant Lulu comfortable as they fell asleep. Shane tried to reason with the agents present to at least update Mrs. Plummer, to little avail. Zoe continued her inward struggle to understand the tangled web that had come to light. If one couldn't trust what anyone else said, what was left?

The clock showed five 'til eleven when the doors to Trauma One opened. Zoe jumped as her mother sped towards the bed now being wheeled out. She was stopped by two CIA representatives, who likewise held Shane back.

"I just want to see my son," Julie Plummer begged tiredly.

"You will soon enough, ma'am," replied the first man. A doctor peered concernedly at them.

"C'mon, guys," Shane chided. "The poor woman's dealt with 'im missing for over 24 hours. He's got nothing to do with your job. Cut some slack."

"Mom…?" came a low moan. Seth was stirring. His mom took the opportunity to blow past them all and reach the bedside.

"I'm here sweetheart. It's all going to be okay."

"Mom…" Seth was barely conscious. His eyes were partially open, but they didn't focus on anything.

"It's me, I'm right here. What's wrong with him?"

The doctor gently pulled her a couple steps away so the bed could continue down the hall. "He's disoriented right now, Mrs. Plummer—I'm assuming that you're his mother?" He waited for her to nod. "The anesthetic we use wears off quickly once a patient is taken off it. Jean?"

A nurse following Seth's entourage stopped and turned.

"Give him half a dose of sedative, just to be careful. I don't want him moving yet if we can help it. Thanks."

"Why half a dose? What's happened to my son?"

"We can't risk lowering his heart rate too much right now," the doctor replied. He held up a hand to the approaching CIA reps. "This is my call, gentlemen. I have an obligation to tell the parent or legal guardian. Please excuse us. I've placed your son's condition as critical but stable. There were three broken ribs, one of which needed a pin for support in the healing process. Some of the deeper topical wounds were in the early stages of infection, but treatment will easily take care of that. The only concern I have right now is head trauma. There were a number of serious blows to the head and neck, and we'll have to conduct further tests to make sure there's no irreversible damage. Don't be discouraged about it, though; he's really doing quite well for the gravity of the situation. A little dehydrated, but I expect he'll make a full recovery."

"Thank you." Shane had appeared out of nowhere to lend a comforting arm to the overwhelmed Mrs. Plummer. "When will we be able to see him?"

"I know this has been a trying ordeal, but can you give the agency until about midmorning? I've already told them they can't speak to Reese before she wakes up tomorrow. She's become hysterical every time she was fully awake tonight. Both teens will be kept under tight watch until this whole thing is wrapped up. Please be patient with them."

Zoe watched her mom nod to show she understood, though her emotions lay just under the surface.

"Now," the doctor continued, "we do have a couple rooms for families who need to stay overnight, especially in cases like this. But there isn't room for all of you."

"You stay, Mom." Zoe stood for the first time in two hours. "I'll help Claire and Shane take the others home, and we'll come back tomorrow."

Her mom hugged her tightly. "Thanks, hon. I'll call your cell phone if anything happens. Try to get some sleep."

"You too. 'Night."

"Goodnight."

"You know, Zoe," Claire said quietly as they loaded up the sleeping kids, "Sometimes life seems to leave you without anywhere to turn. That doesn't mean there isn't a way left. You just have to find it in your heart…and give others the same chance."

Zoe bit her lip. As much as her emotions didn't want to believe those words, she knew that maybe, deep down, there was some truth to them.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

After awhile, Reese simply lost track of what was reality and what was the dream world. Or nightmare, as was probably more fitting. She relived both the deaths of her parents and Trenton, thought she saw hospital rooms of the past and present, and couldn't seem to fully escape no matter what she did. These visions alternated with patches of nothingness, which were not so much relief as just blanks in her memory.

She _did_ recall one particularly vivid image before finally sinking into a deep sleep. Everything was blurred except for Seth, who was being rolled in on yet another white bed. He was weakly struggling despite the figures in attendance around him. Reese wanted so badly to reach out and calm him. He'd already done that so many times for her. But even as she watched, something was injected into his arm. His movements quieted. Then the blurred shapes of people shielded him from view, and darkness finally took Reese's overwrought mind.


	8. Free

- - - - - - - - Free - - - - - - - -

- - - - - - - - Free - - - - - - - -

The first thing Seth was aware of was an unbearably tight feeling in his throat. Could he breathe? The thought sent a wave of panic through his chest, causing him to immediately try to sit up.

Pain racked his entire body from out of nowhere. Hands restrained him with more strength than he possessed. A familiar voice said, "Go get the doctor!" and then tried to calm him with soothing tones. Seth found he couldn't respond. Whatever was in his throat seemed to fill his mouth as well. He realized his eyes were open, focusing ever so slowly on a white-garbed man who had just leaned in close.

"Seth? Can hear me?" the man asked. "I need you to raise your right thumb if you can."

Seth did his best.

"Good, now blink your eyes."

Again, he obeyed.

"Okay, do you want me to remove the oxygen tube?"

_You stuck a __**what**__ all the way down my throat?_ Seth nodded as enthusiastically as possible. The sensation was every bit as disgusting as the idea sounded. Once it was gone, though, he coughed and struggled to breathe even more than before.

"Listen to me, Seth. You've got to calm down before you hurt yourself worse."

He couldn't help it. The confusion was terrifying when the last thing he clearly remembered was a psycho bent on killing him. A clear object pressed around his mouth and nose; he couldn't shake it off. Breathing became only a little easier.

"Seth, sweetheart, you're safe again. I'm here." A woman's face swam into view, and a cool hand touched his forehead. The sight was too much. Seth felt tears trickle around the mask on his own battered face.

"Mom…" Feeling what little strength he'd had drain away, he let her gently cradle him for a couple minutes. He _was_ back. The insanity was over. His initial panic was ebbing away, finally allowing him to be free of the hard mask…only to have it replaced by more, smaller tubes, this time in his nose. "Aww, enough already with the _ER_ stuff," he groaned hoarsely.

"I wish that were the case, but the '_ER_ stuff' isn't over, I'm afraid," said the man in the white coat, whom Seth could now tell was the doctor. "You've got three broken ribs, a concussion, and various other injuries. Just try to relax. Whatever the CIA's trying to keep quiet, you sure took a beating for it."

_Took a beating for…wait a minute!_ "Where's Reese?" Seth asked, making another failed attempt to sit up out of sudden concern. Several seconds passed before the pain receded enough for him to breathe normally again. "Is she—okay? They didn't let—_Trenton_—"

"Shh, shh, it's okay. She's here too," his mom interrupted. She started finger-combing his matted hair, in that annoying way that mothers tend to do. Over her shoulder, Zoe was peeking nervously at him.

"But where _is_ she?"

"Seth, keep your voice down. She's on the other side of this curtain. _Asleep_. Debriefing to her supervisor this morning got her worked up again, so she's sedated. Other than that and some minor things, though, she'll be fine."

The green curtain was pulled aside, and Reese's slight form appeared, curled into a ball in the neighboring bed. White butterfly bandages, barely seen on one cheek, and a pair of crutches propped against the wall were the only plain signs of injury. Then she rolled over in her sleep. Bruises covered much of her face and the arm that was bared—Seth figured he probably similarly colorful—a testament to what they'd gone through for each other and his dad's work.

"What…what happened after Shane got there? Reese fought back some, and then Trenton knocked me off my chair. An' he wouldn't stop kicking…" Seth winced, feeling the memory even through the thick bandages around his chest. His mom and Zoe were both in tears again.

"Shane stalled 'im, son," the doctor answered. "Drew the boy back to the truck, from what I heard. Then he managed to keep 'im from shooting you before…before…" The grim man glanced over his shoulder, as if searching for words to appear out of thin air.

"What happened, sir?" Seth realized he was shaking slightly. Was he afraid to know the answer?

"She…Reese…I probably shouldn't be repeating any of this. Bottom line is the nutcase kid's dead. I don't know what's going on, and I don't want to know. That's how I take these cases. But it's hit her pretty hard; I wouldn't be surprised if it were a case of—"

"—Stockholm's Syndrome, yeah," Seth chimed in. _Trenton, dead?_ The last pieces fell chillingly into place. He knew Reese had to be capable of a lot, but he couldn't quite imagine her actually _killing_ anyone. It must have been beyond reasoning for her to do what she did, especially given who she had done it to. How was she coping now? Would she ever be herself again?

"In any case," the doctor broke through his thoughts, "you should be resting as much as possible for the next couple of days. We have to let those ribs heal some before we risk moving you around too much. If you have trouble falling asleep, just call the nurse and she'll bring you something for it. Let's not repeat today's episode."

"No, that's okay," yawned Seth. "I've been having to figh—fight off sleep just to hear everything." And before anyone else could reply, he drifted off once more.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_Do they have to watch me 24/7?_ Seth thought groggily. He was so barely awake that he hadn't even moved yet, but there was definitely someone close by. Whoever it was, they were humming softly. It took Seth a few seconds to realize it was "Santa Fe."

"Hey stranger," a gentle voice said as he stirred. "I heard you made quite a fuss earlier. Kovey is what we call 'the agent doctor;' he's patched me up loads of times without a hitch. He knows not to ask questions."

Seth opened his eyes. The room was dim with early morning light, and Reese was smiling down at him, wearing her black jacket over her hospital gown. Concern for what he'd been told before leapt up in his chest. "How're you doing? I heard about…what you did." He stopped as her smile became visibly more difficult to hold.

"Better. I met with a counselor today who said she'd work with me on how to deal with this stuff. Some of the shock's worn off now. Plus, I have you to think about." She rested her hand over his, the bruise from her freshly removed IV still visible. "I don't think I could have stayed sane if Trenton had killed you, no matter how I felt about him. And I wouldn't have gotten the courage to fight in the first place without help." Her real smile returned.

Seth blushed. "I just wanted you to be free to be yourself."

"That's not much of an argument."

Seth couldn't resist chuckling, though the effort was painful. Recovery looked long and boring if he couldn't even laugh. "So, I guess you'll be going home soon, since you're up and about. Back to normal life an' all."

"Sort of. I sprained my ankle when Trenton threw me, and between the counselor and sorting out how much of this I'm accountable for, it could be awhile before things really settle down. _You_ actually won't be stuck here as long as you think," she added, apparently catching his disappointment. "They'll make sure you're healing right, and then let you recover at home."

"You sure?"

"I've broken a few ribs before. Trust me."

"Okay, I get it," Seth gave in, smiling. The atmosphere seemed to close in with the turn of subject: going home. "Uh, Reese? Speaking of homes, have you thought anymore about staying here?"

Reese's buoyant mood slowed considerably. "I haven't, really. Most of my energy has been focused on how you were doing and not losing my mind over what I did. And to be honest, I don't know what I want. It's like I'm split between two worlds. All I've dreamed of for years is a normal, settled life. A chance for a real family. But after all those years, _this_ life is what's become a part of me. It's how I've learned and survived and set standards by. Look at my track record. It took two months and a double-crossing, life-threatening hostage situation to get me to tell you everything. I don't…I'm just not sure I'll fit in anymore," she finished woefully.

"You have theatre."

"I _had_ theatre. Then acting became a part of real life. Don't you see? Can I trust myself to separate me from any other character I play? It's too easy. Too easy to be what someone wants so they can be happy. Too easy to hurt people like you, Seth, just looking for an honest relationship." She sighed. "I don't know if there's even anything of 'me' left."

"Yeah, there is," Seth countered, ignoring the sting of her confession. "I know this doesn't solve the dilemma, but I saw the real you come out doing the things you love most: brilliant acting and brilliant casework. So you're really, _really_ good at acting. You took the first step when you plugged in here. Shane and Claire know you…and I know you. You're not alone anymore. All you have to do is let us be there for you."

Reese bit her lip.

"I understand if there are sometimes missions like this one, where they need someone who can blend in with a younger crowd. But how many jobs like that come up versus ones that could be done by an adult? Even the best agents can't do it all."

Their gazes locked in silence for a long time. Reese's expressive eyes betrayed the fierce tug-of-war raging behind them. It was also through those eyes that Seth saw his answer. He grinned.

"You'll fit in, I promise. Did I mention half the school hailed your performance in _Newsies_ as one of the best since the program started eight years ago?"

The girl's eyebrows arched. "Only half? What did the others say?'

"Well, let's face it. We still have to make it easier for the other half to see how much Shauna has done with the place. We'll convert more with the next show."

"That's good, at least," Reese giggled in spite of herself. She started to get up, grabbing her crutches, then stopped. "Seth, I want to thank you, for everything. Overused as the phrase is, I'd probably be dead if it weren't for you. Really, I would be. Trenton let slip in an argument that once he had the computer, there would be no need for…_inside_ _jobs_. He would have gotten rid of me in the end whether he was cornered or not."

"Anything to help." Seth couldn't stop looking into her eyes. So much experience for a sixteen-year-old. And yet the fact that they still had years to learn and grow together was amazing. He settled for squeezing her hand this time; there would be other moments for more.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Okay, let's take it from the top of the scene one more time, and then we'll call it a day," Shauna announced to the auditorium. Everyone hurried to places. Reese found the going slow on crutches, especially considering her character. Of all things—she and Seth had relatively healed up in time for Christmas, which was great. Now it was nearly March, and the weather had decided to spit out one last cold snap, leaving ice in such places as back steps. She'd fallen and broken her ankle for real! But _Lost in Yonkers_ didn't open for another month, by which time she could lose the crutches again. She'd make it in one piece—one way or another.

Seth kindly retrieved her bookbag from the seats while Reese told Shauna about the next doctor's appointment. He'd kept his word about helping, which was nice considering they were _still_ the talk of the school. The media had uncovered large portions of the incident's inner details, and in no venue but a school does news travel faster. Luckily, Reese's personal connections had remained strictly private.

Although not happy about the double-role Reese had played, Tanner's surrogate-parent affection for her kept him from coming down too hard. She would remain inactive for now, and he would keep an eye on her in addition to Shane and Claire, now legally her guardians. The tough supervisor was a frequent addition to mealtimes at the Wolfe residence.

"Come on, Reese. Shane's going to wonder where we are," Seth called. Despite this warning and the crutches, though, Shane had not beaten them to their pick up spot. But someone else had.

Two men, one silver-haired and serious, the other younger and showing considerably more bravado, approached them almost immediately.

"Federal agents," said the first man, flipping his badge. "We need to ask you a few questions about a friend of yours."


End file.
